Archive of Our Own

Then

"So what do I do? Sit here and knit?"

She wasn't in the best of moods. No, she really wasn't.

Out of all the months, out of all the days, Fury picked the first Monday in December to break this news to her. This awful news.

Sharon spent the majority of the year applying for a transfer. She knew there wasn't a chance she'd get approved, but she tried anyway.

Because Steve Rogers was doing well, and really, that's what this whole business was about. He needed a helping hand, someone to look over him, check on his progress, keep him safe, and ultimately ensure he was fitting into the modern age.

She thought she did all of that. And more.

Sharon even had a logbook. Not that Fury needed reports anymore. He was far too busy to sit at a desk and read through a progress page of Steve's day-to-day activities. No. She kept it as proof, so that when the day finally came, she'd have the details to back up this transfer request.

A couple of weeks ago, Sharon flipped through the pages and was mighty impressed. She kept everything dated and professional. Except for the doodles. That, she couldn't help, and she knew Fury understood her humor anyhow.

The list included, and was detailed but ultimately proved that:

• Steve was physically healthy.
• Steve's mental health went from a five to a solid eight.
• Steve's wardrobe choice had improved.
• Steve's speech was...improving. 

Most of that last part was directed to his inability to form coherent words around women. Her, to be more precise, and Natasha often chuckled at that and offered theories, none of which Sharon entertained at all, but she wasn't adding that part to her report.

The pages went on.

And even with all of that Fury still managed to gather the courage to tell her on this very frosty Monday morning that she was to remain the dutiful neighbor to Steve Rogers until she was advised further.

She may have broken a vase and cursed him. No. May , wasn't the word. She did break the vase, she was sure of it, because Steve knocked on her door a few seconds later, alarmed, and she was too angry and was seeing red to speak to him properly.

Her mood extended well into mid-December, and she was still grumbling when she ran into Steve out in their shared hallway. She hadn't meant for this run-in to happen. She was far too frustrated to document anything he did the past week and a half. She gathered that if his life wasn't in any immediate danger, she would avoid him like the plague. 

He was carrying a few grocery bags and a poinsettia pot wrapped in some pretty gold paper in the other arm.

"Hi, Kate." 

She hated it when he smiled at her like that. She forced a grin, the best one she could muster, despite knowing that he wasn't responsible for this arrangement she had.

"Hi," she said. "Looks like you went for quite the grocery run." She glanced at his bags.

He huffed a light laugh and nodded his head. "I've been avoiding the crowd. Everyone's out these days. Is it just me, or are people particularly violent during the holidays?"

Sharon raised her eyebrows. Was he telling a joke? Normally, he was terrible with them, but this wasn't half bad.

"Extremely violent," she said. "You don't want to be caught in the middle of a sale. People dart to those aisles so quickly."

"And there's never anything left," he finished and gestured to his plant. "Good thing I grabbed the last one."

Her cheek dimpled. "Looks like a find," she said.

He bobbed his head. "Usually you can find them everywhere but most places are sold out." He paused. "Are you heading to work?"

She wasn't wearing her nurse scrubs but she said, "No. Just coming back." There wasn't a point to head out now that he was home. "I'm beat."

It wasn't a lie. Sure, she hadn't done anything remotely physical in a while. Even Steve's usual assassins were taking a holiday break it seemed, but she was tired just grumbling quietly to herself the past couple of weeks. Frustration was exhausting.

"The flu is going around," Steve said. "I'm not surprised if the hospital is packed this time of year." She nodded and sighed, and he gave her a supportive smile. "I hope you've had your influenza shot."

She raised an eyebrow. Oh, now he was definitely in the wrong year. "Influenza shot," she said. "I haven't heard that one in a long time."

His cheeks turned pink. "Well, I--" He cleared his throat. "I meant the, uh…"

"The flu shot?" She couldn't resist teasing him. "Don't worry. Most people don't even know what influenza is and that it's the same thing."

He chuckled. "At least I'm talking to a nurse so it's not so bad."

He wasn't. He really wasn't.

Sharon bobbed her head, and she fumbled with her keys. He did the same.

"I hope it slows down for you," he said.

He was sweet. Too sweet. It was just too bad that she didn't want to be here looking after him.

She was curious, yes. Who wouldn't want to know more about the man that slept for seventy years and woke up in the future? Steve was someone who accomplished great things in the short time he enlisted and became Captain, but her fascination died down quickly. Frankly, because he still had the opportunity to duck out, complete missions, and be a part of the bigger picture. 

And she was stuck here…doing nothing.

He looked confused now. She must be frowning again.

"Good night," she mumbled.

She was just shutting the door behind her when she caught him saying, "Enjoy your afternoon."

Shit.

She didn't even know what time it was.

"Well, aren't you just a barrel of fun?"

Sharon sighed and tossed her keys on the dining table.

Natasha was seated on her loveseat, and she looked comfortable and cozy. Sharon narrowed her eyes.

"What do I owe the pleasure?" she bit out.

"My, aren't you feisty today," Natasha said, and she cocked her head to the side. "You'll get coal if you keep up that frown."

Sharon continued glaring. "You don't even like Christmas. Why the hell are you using those references for?"

Natasha shrugged. "Just because I don't believe in it, doesn't mean that the Grinch doesn't exist."

"Get out."

The smirk on Natasha's face widened. "In all honesty, I'm here to do the annual check." She waved a hand. "I heard from a little birdie that you've been moping, and judging by…" she paused to take in the state of her dirty kitchen, and Sharon glared. "--the way you haven't picked up the phone, I thought I'd swing by to chat."

"Chat," Sharon repeated, and she crossed her arms over her chest. "And by birdie, you mean S.H.I.E.L.D. and Fury."

Natasha yawned, and it wasn't convincing. "It just so happens that the logo they chose is a bird, yes."

“Go away.”

“No.”

Sharon sneered, but she ventured to the kitchen and rummaged through the fridge. 

“Ignore me all you want, but this isn’t going away. Now you can either take it like the good Grinch that you are, or you can continue to mope. Either way, it’s not going to change that we need you here,” Natasha drawled.

The fridge door slammed shut. “I can’t just sit around here any longer.” Now, Sharon was practically seething. “It’s easy for you. You’re the one who’s out there while I’m sitting here keeping a logbook for a man who can throw a damn truck over his head.”

Natasha shrugged. “Exaggerating a little, don’t you think?” she said, and her eyes danced. “I don’t know if he can throw a truck over his head, but he’s done it to a motorcycle.”

Sharon scoffed. “Wonderful,” she mumbled. “Just wonderful.”

“Oh, stop.” Natasha pushed herself off the couch. “Your place is usually decorated by now.”

“Again, I say, you hate Christmas.”

Natasha pointed a finger. “I do,” she said. “But it’s also tradition for me to come by and be a complete bore, and you bake me cookies. I enjoy sustenance.”

Sharon sighed and rubbed her temples.

“It’ll be a good distraction,” Natasha told her. “Here’s a thought. Steve’s not going anywhere for the holidays, and you’re not going anywhere for the holidays--” Sharon glared, and Natasha twirled a lock of hair around her finger. “I happen to know that he hasn’t decorated in a while, and that he enjoys Christmas.”

Sharon bared her teeth. “So?”

“So… you should invite him over.”

“No.”

Natasha made a face. “Grinch.”

“Go away.”

It was a week before the twenty-fifth and dragging the tree up the stairs was a pain.

Natasha was right.

Decorating could provide the perfect distraction. Plus, it was a good opportunity to charge all her purchases to S.H.I.E.L.D. and to Fury. She smirked at that. They all had credit limits to their accounts. It was a standard that they only purchase items that would be relevant to complete their mission, but Sharon found that the limit was increased.

She had a feeling it would be. She tore Fury’s ear off. The least he could do was up her spend.

The ornaments came first. Those were easy. The decorations came second, and the tree was last. It was the heaviest, and lugging it up the steps and through her door was proving to be a challenge. She was more out of shape than she thought.

"Need some help?"

She could tell behind the branches that it was him, because there were only three units on their floor, and the other one was vacant.

Steve poked his head from the side. His eyes were round and he looked worried.

Sharon blew some hair from her face. "No, I got it."

It didn't sound as dismissive as she wanted it to be. Grumbling right at him wasn't something she normally did if she could help it.

There were steps from behind the tree, and she hoped he was walking away. She tugged at the base again, moving it side to side and hopefully over the lip of the doorway.

"It looks heavy."

He was still there.

"Nothing I can't handle," she mumbled, and she pulled at it again.

"Kate, you could seriously hurt yourself."

She sighed and took a step back. Between the branches, Steve peeked at her. She placed her hands on her hips and lowered her head.

"Fine, but if you break your back and I have to clock in at the hospital, you won't hear the end of it."

He wouldn't break his back. She knew that, but he didn't know that she knew that.

He lightly chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind." There was shuffling. "How about you pull and I'll see if I can lift it."

Very smooth. He was getting better at this lying bit.

"Okay."

She barely pulled, because his lifting was effortless and a little too easy, and Steve maneuvered the tree inside the apartment in a few short seconds.

"Is it alright over here?" he asked.

She nodded and watched with amused eyes as he scrunched his face and placed the tree near the fireplace. The acting was top-notch.

"Do I need to do a physical?" Her eyes twinkled.

He huffed a chuckle and stared at his shoes.

If there was one thing she'd admit was fun, and she wouldn't admit this aloud because Natasha had eyes like a hawk, was that she enjoyed seeing him flustered. Just a little.

"Thank you for the assistance," she said. "They didn't have any smaller trees available."

He waved a hand. "It's not a big deal. I'm happy to help. I don't have one myself, and it's nice to smell fresh pine once in a while."

"Oh?"

Natasha said he celebrated the holidays. Her brows crinkled. Was he...in one of those moods again?

When Steve first came out from the ice and was assigned to this building and she was placed in the apartment next door, it wasn't difficult to read his mental stability.

He was mostly all smiles whenever he spotted her, that was just who he was, but in the few seconds before that or after they waved their goodbye, his shoulders would sink in and his smile would disappear.

She had some trouble with the excessively loud music he played too. Those tracks were constant and blaring. Sharon recognized some of the classical tunes, and it was the only reason she picked up on the fact that he turned up the volume to weep.

Or she thought he was weeping. 

She hadn't actually seen it, but the first time it happened and when the same track continued on loop for the tenth time, she was worried he'd gone off the end and… well, that he'd done something to himself. So when she knocked and he answered, eyes gleaming and red, she didn't know what to think.

She...felt for him. And the feeling was foreign and new and indescribable.

She did not want him returning to that again.

"Are you getting one yourself?" she asked, and she gestured to the tree.

Steve buried his hands in his pockets. "Not sure yet. I was never good at this stuff."

"But you like it?" She looked on curiously.

He ducked his head. "It's merry."

Sharon huffed a sigh and placed her hands on her hips. "Alright, I'll tell you what," she said. "If you get a tree, I'll share some of my ornaments and decorations with you. How does that sound?"

He waved his hands. "Oh, that's not necessary. I don't want to impose."

"I'm offering." She gave him a small smile. "There's not enough cheer these days."

Natasha would laugh at that, and wholeheartedly, Sharon agreed with her own advice. She just wasn't the best person to pull off the cheering. Providing ornaments and decorations wasn't anything...difficult. It was simply a gesture.

Steve beamed. "Yeah?" He stroked his chin. "Maybe I will get one. I just don't know how to decorate. I've never actually done it before."

Sharon squinted. Didn't he major in art? If anything, he was far more artistic than she was. She practically threw the ornaments on.

His lips were twisting together in thought, and she sighed to herself. Here it was, and she blamed Natasha again for getting it in her head.

"I'll help you decorate."

His eyes lit up. "Really? That's awfully kind of you." 

She let her cheek dimple. "It's the least I can do since you carried my tree in." And for being the reason why she couldn't be assigned somewhere else. 

It would have been nice to add that last part in.

Steve shook his head. "It wasn't any trouble," he said, and he paused. "I could...help you with yours too."

"You need to leave. He'll hear you."

Natasha was practically joyous. "Tell the story again."

Sharon narrowed her eyes. "Get out."

"The cookies aren't done." Natasha glanced at the oven.

"I'm not baking anything."

"Oh? Then why the hell am I here?" 

Sharon sighed and rubbed her temples. "How would I know?"

Natasha's lips twisted into a grin. "That's right," she said. "Steve was telling me that he had a very special night planned." She raised her index finger. "With the nice and friendly neighbor next door."

"He said that?"

"I may be exaggerating, but he did say you were nice and friendly. Not sure why." Natasha waved a hand. "So a date night, hmm? Sounds fun."

"It's not a date," Sharon said. "He's coming over to help decorate the tree and then I'm helping with his."

Natasha made a face. "It's too sweet. It's hurting my teeth."

"Will you leave? If he catches you here, he might just toss that tree at us."

"Fine," Natasha drawled. "But I expect details. There are never new Christmas stories anymore."

"Out!"

"Kate?"

They froze, or Sharon did, and Natasha simply picked at her nails.

There was another knock, and Sharon darted to the door and turned to point at Natasha in warning then she pointed to her window.

"I'll be there in a minute," she called out. 

She glanced at the door and then to Natasha who has already slipped out quietly. She cleared her throat and swung open the door.

"Hi."

Steve raised a hand to wave. "Hi," he said. "Sorry, I didn't know you had someone over."

Her eyes widened. "Oh, that. No. I was on the phone," she said, and she lightly chuckled.

He raised an eyebrow. "I thought I heard voices."

"Speaker."

He bobbed his head. "Ah, of course. Yes, I've heard those before. It's very useful." He was biting back a cringe. "Handsfree, I mean."

Sharon slipped on a supportive smile and took a step to the side to let him in.

"So, did you find the tree you wanted?" she asked.

Steve huffed a laugh. "I did. Took longer than expected," he said. "I had my hands full."

She raised her brows.

He shook his head. "It's nothing. Apparently, I can't take care of plants," he said.

"Plants?"

"The poinsettia. There's something wrong with it." He pressed his lips together and sighed.

Sharon continued raising her eyebrows. "You killed it?"

He lowered his head. "It's not...dead, but it's losing a lot of petals."

"They're tricky," she said, and she paused. "When we're done here, I can take a look."

He eyed her. "Really?"

"Yes, really." She turned to the boxes. "You can pick whichever ones you want. I don't have a preference."

His eyes lightened.

Sharon was surprised that he chose so many, and he honestly looked so excited that she suggested they start with his tree first.

He welcomed her in with a bright smile on his face, and she eyed the living room. It sure looked different when the lights were on and she wasn’t in mid-battle.

Steve rummaged through the boxes and looked absolutely boyish as he started to wrap the tree branches with ribbons, and Sharon busied herself with the damn poinsettia. Why the hell did she offer to look at this thing? Hers often died shortly after the holidays. She certainly wasn't an expert.

But he definitely did something to it. Poinsettias normally lasted a few weeks even with the worst care, but Steve's was practically wilting.

She scrunched her nose. "Did you overwater this?"

He blinked. "Overwater?"

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Too much water will kill it," she said.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck.

Sharon sighed. "I think I have some potting soil. I can re-pot it."

"I can't ask you to do that," he said. "The ornaments…"

He was right. Why was she offering all these services? She caught him looking at the wilting plant again.

Damn it.

So maybe she didn't want him looking like that. Whatever that was. It wasn’t a good look on him.

"I'll be back," she said.

When she returned, he looked on curiously while she filled the pot with new soil. She hid a grin and pressed her lips together. For someone who was nearly on every front page cover of a news article, and she still didn’t understand why he chose to keep up with his S.H.I.E.L.D. agent cover when he was around her, Steve was more or less…normal.

Normal was an interesting word choice when it came to him, and he certainly tried enough to distance himself away from Captain America when he wasn't needed, but Sharon always thought he couldn't help himself.

There was a lot about Captain America that was all Steve and vice versa. She watched a few of his interviews and gotten to know him as her neighbor, and his quality and values were the same.

He was lightly laughing now, and it was because he tipped over the old pot and got soil on his lap.

The corners of Sharon’s lips tilted up.

Steve was still dusting off his pants, and she’d just finished tucking the soil in the pot when his phone rang. He excused himself to a corner in his living room, and Sharon’s ears picked up on his hushed whispering. She glanced over her shoulder. She could also read lips, but he had his back turned, but judging by his stiff shoulders, she suspected it was to do with business. 

She frowned. She should be out there. Not here…watering plants and decorating a tree.

“I’m very sorry about this, Kate,” he said, and she gave him her most rounded eyes. He looked disappointed. “I need to duck out. There’s some urgent business I need to attend to. I probably won’t return until morning.”

Sharon brought herself to her feet. “That’s not a problem,” she said, and she looked over his shoulder and to the half-decorated tree. “I’ll leave the decorations here. If you need more, you can always knock. You know where I am.”

He gave her a small smile. “If you’re not busy tomorrow, maybe you can help me again? Only if you don’t mind.”

She pressed her lips together. It wasn’t an answer, but she was just slightly down from being left behind again.

She left quickly, not wanting to give Steve a hard time with ushering her out. He insisted on keeping his suit and shield at his residence instead of at the S.H.I.E.L.D. base. That was probably smart. There were a few agents unprofessional enough who were eager to snap pictures. 

Her door closed behind her, and Sharon blew out a breath.

Her naked tree stared back at her.

She took her time to hang the ornaments, grumbling quietly about another missed chance at being a part of the bigger picture. It was frustrating and just all too annoying that this was getting in the way of her enjoying the holidays.

Because Natasha was right. She did like Christmas.

And now she was a grumbling and cranky grouch.

She kicked one or the boxes to the side and prepared to sink into the couch when Steve's floorboards creaked.

Son of a bitch.

Really? Now?

Sharon ran a hand down her face and reached into the box. One of the ornaments came broken, and she recalled feasting it with a nasty glare, but at least the large broken shards would be useful.

She grabbed a few pieces and charged through Steve’s door. The broken ornaments zipped through the air and the man yelped. She tackled him to the floor and dug the shard further into his gut. 

A pair of strong arms circled around her from behind, and Sharon kicked her legs in the air and cursed. She threw her head back and crushed his nose with her skull. The arms loosened and she swung her leg out to deliver a solid kick. The man fell backwards, and her eyes widened as he inched closer to the tree.

“Get away from there!” she hissed, and she snatched him by the collar before he could fall.

They danced for a couple of minutes until she finally hit him on the head with the plant pot that sat on the dining table. He fell, and she made quick work with snapping his neck. 

“Shit.”

Still fighting to catch her breath, Sharon sat slumped and frowned at the crumpled poinsettia on the floor.

“I hate poinsettas. They don’t last long.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. "And orchids do?"

Sharon raised an eyebrow. "They do if you know how to take care of them."

"Is that why you gave it to him?"

"It's not from me," she mumbled.

Natasha grinned. "Oh? He said it was from the friendly neighbor next door." Her eyes danced.

Sharon frowned and she hid her face on the pillow. “Why are you here? It’s early, and I’m tired.”

The bed dipped on one side, and Natasha sat next to her slumped form.

“He was pretty broken up about that poinsettia,” she said. “Did he know it was you?”

Sharon sighed and peeked from the bits of her over her eyes. “No. I placed it back strategically so it looked like it died on its own. To be fair, it was dying anyway.”

Natasha hummed. “And you couldn’t resist, and you had to get him a replacement.”

“It wasn’t me.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “He specifically said it was youn, or he thinks it's you. Someone left it out on his doorstep." She smirked. "No point in denying it. You can’t help it when he gives you those puppy eyes.”

“Get the hell out.”

Now

“I got you something. Can you come take a look?”

Sharon inched up on her tip toes on the ladder. The star was nearly up, and Steve chose the perfect moment to come in.

“Hold on.” The star blinked it’s pretty light, and she grinned to herself and stepped off the ladder. The star tipped to the side. She narrowed her eyes.

Steve rested his chin on her shoulder, and he hugged her from behind. “Looks kind of nice like that.”

“I didn’t know you were a funny man,” she said, and he laughed.

“Come. I got you something.”

He tugged at her hand, and she followed him to the kitchen. He pointed at the dining table. 

“A poinsettia?” She raised her eyebrows. 

He bobbed his head and beamed. 

“Don’t you remember what happened the last time you bought a poinsettia?”

He pressed his lips together. “Yes, it didn’t end well, but this time around, I can actually gift it to you. It didn’t make it the last time.”

Sharon kept her eyebrows raised. “You bought that for me?”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck. “It said on the label that it spreads cheer. You were awfully grumpy that time, so I thought that it would make you feel better and cheer you up on Christmas Day.” He sighed.

She hid a smile.

“I promise I won’t overwater it this time. I don’t want to kill it again,” he said, and he looked hopeful. "Maybe we could--Oof!"

Sharon’s cheek dimpled when his back hit the kitchen counter, and she tugged at the front of his hoodie and pulled him down. Steve looked surprised.

"I'll tell you a secret," she said, and her eyed twinkled.

His widened.

She smirked and pulled him closer, pressing her lips on his neck. She paused.

"The orchid was from me."

He beamed. "I knew it!"